


Once Upon a Dream

by oihermione



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HEA, Kid Fic, Lost Memory, Minor Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Minor Neville Longbottom/Ginny Weasley, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley Being an Asshole, Under a curse, Very LOOSELY inspired by Once Upon a Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oihermione/pseuds/oihermione
Summary: There is a town in England where every wizard and witch you’ve ever known is trapped between two worlds, victims of a powerful curse that can only be broken by one person. Hermione may not realize who she is in this new town without magic, but will that stop her from falling in love with a stranger she has dreamt of before she even knows him?Inspired loosely by Once Upon a Time and heavily on prompts from the H&C discord. 💖
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 80
Kudos: 103
Collections: Hearts and Cauldrons - Daily Prompts!, Hearts and Cauldrons Discord Members





	1. We Meet Again?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NaomiJameston](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiJameston/gifts), [thebarsofhisplight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebarsofhisplight/gifts), [Umbrella_ella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umbrella_ella/gifts), [multilingualism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/multilingualism/gifts), [Viridiantly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridiantly/gifts), [LunaP999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaP999/gifts), [misspeaches](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspeaches/gifts), [LadyHeliotrope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHeliotrope/gifts), [Q_Drew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Q_Drew/gifts), [Morbidmuch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morbidmuch/gifts), [turtle_wexler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtle_wexler/gifts).



It was an eerily familiar place. There were flashes of memories that weren’t hers as she approached the cupboard across the room.

The room was bare, a cleared table, a door on one side, and a large window on the other. It felt odd to have sunlight pouring into the room given the chill she felt as she moved closer to the cupboard. _A silver key,_ clearly antique but not ornate, sat in the lock waiting patiently for her curiosity to get the best of her. 

_“Are you sure you want to do this?”_

A voice carried from across the room, it was strange. She didn’t recall anyone being in the room with her, but the voice was familiar, comforting even, despite the warning in the tone. 

She felt the urge to turn and face the person who had spoken but the key called her. 

Reaching forward slowly, her fingers finally felt the cold of the silver, hesitant for only a moment, she twisted the key and turned her head at the feel of a hand on her shoulder.

It was a man. He seemed too familiar; quite a bit taller than she, she had to look up at him, her eyes met a pair of seemingly dark ones that were difficult to read, but somehow she knew what they were attempting to convey. 

Fear. 

She awoke from the dream, drenched in sweat and confused, squinting over at the digital clock on her nightstand. 

3:22 am. 

She groaned loudly, she still had an hour before she had to be up for work. After tossing and turning for several minutes, it felt impossible to fall back asleep. Her subconscious kept pulling the image of the man from her dream to the forefront of her mind, he had a pale angular face with long dark hair… and the eyes. She _knew_ those eyes, she just couldn’t place who they belonged to. 

Knowing it was pointless to lie there and dwell, she finally decided to get up and shower, but throughout her preparation for work that morning, her thoughts dwelled on the dark eyes of the mysterious stranger. 

* * *

“It’s about time you got here, Marnie,” her boss’s tone carried over as extremely abrasive this morning. 

“Sorry, I–,” before she could finish, an apron was being thrown at her. 

“Go wash up the tables by the display window,” and just like that, Molly had disappeared back behind the counter. 

Waitressing at Rolling Scones wasn't her first choice of a career, but she had no other options here. No other local opportunities were available to her and she was tied in place until she could afford to go elsewhere. Their local library lost funding at some point, though she could not remember exactly when, but it was her dream to be the one to reopen it. That would be the only thing worth staying in town for. 

She had two jars at home, one for the library and another for a life away from Reverbourn. Every check she received she tried to put what little she could away, flipping a coin each time to decide which jar she would add to. 

As she gathered the dishes and set them on her tray, she noticed someone sitting in the far corner reading. The face was tucked downward and she could only see straggles of long dark hair covering his profile. Perhaps it was the hair that caused her to take closer note of him, as most customers here were regulars, and she felt that she recognized that dark hair but _not_ as a regular here. He looked somewhat professional in his dress of dark trousers and a white button-down, all too intriguing for her to ignore, as such, she found herself searching for an excuse to approach.

She noticed from afar that he was running low on coffee. A good enough excuse; she would get him another cup without interrupting his reading. 

Preparing it quickly, she began to walk over to the secluded man nervously. 

“Excuse me, I thought you’d like a fresh cu–,” and then it happened as soon as the man looked up and his eyes met her own. 

She had nearly dropped the mug, catching herself in time, but its contents still splashed to and fro. The man had gone to catch the cup in assistance and spilled is own nearly empty cup in the process. 

“I am _so_ sorry, sir.” Setting the cup down, she began throwing napkins down to clean up her disaster, her heart racing. 

“I’ll go get a towel to get the rest of this up,” before she could turn to leave the man spoke in a deep voice that she found eerily familiar as well. 

“It is fine, thank you for the fresh cup, it seems I needed it,” the man squinted at her apron, “Maureen.” 

“Marnie, Marnie is fine,” she forced the words out, still in shock. 

But how was she supposed to react when the literal man of her dreams suddenly appeared in the place she worked? 

She returned quickly with a towel in hand and noticed the book he had been reading had edges that were damaged, thanks to her stumbling. 

“Oh no, your book! I’m so sorry, let me cover your meal and I can pay to repl–,” the man had lifted the book to show the spine and she noticed it had a sticker label. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not mine.” 

Was that a library sticker? 

“Is that from the library?” She had stopped cleaning and openly gaped at the book. 

Not thinking, she had reached for it, and he had let her take it without question.

“How did you get it?” She raised the next question without giving him time to answer the first. 

“I have my ways.” That was not an answer she liked, but she could see a glint in his eyes. A glint she was intrigued by. 

He stood and pulled a few notes out, he seemed to hesitate briefly before setting them on the table, “Hold on to the book if you’d like, it’s due in 3 days time.” 

He left without another word, the slightly stained book still in her hand. 

Finding herself more flustered than ever, she didn’t realize until the end of her shift that she hadn’t even caught his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts from this chapter were from NaomiJameston and myself! Beta'd by elizabethnotbennet


	2. Persistent Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marnie's dreams are nothing if not persistent.

That night she fell asleep with the stranger on her mind, which _almost_ explained the dream she had. Intimacy was not something she expected, though the latent desires of her subconscious clearly had. 

They were under a tree, smiling, laughing. There was the sound of a stream running nearby that meshed with the quiet chatter of nature around them. Yellow lights and lanterns surrounded them, these lights seemed to be floating as if by magic, but she knew that was not possible. 

Their food now gone, he had pulled her down to lay on the pillows beside him, staring through the canopy of leaves at the stars above. 

Lying still in one another’s arms for what felt like an eternity, a slight movement caused her alarm. She saw the man reach from the picnic basket from the corner of her eye. It felt like a secret he was hiding when she couldn’t see what his hand contained. 

His lips began to move and though she could not hear the words, the meaning was clear. The secret she had seen emerged from his pocket and became a ring. 

She had said yes without thinking there could be any other option, a strange occurrence for someone like herself who often overthought everything. Her dream version of herself was more impulsive than she was while awake, but she could not judge her decision. Though she did not know the man, her proposal acceptance came with the familiarity her body had felt with his arms around her, touching her, feeling her. 

Their movements were heading in dangerous territory for someone she hardly knew, yet had just accepted a marriage proposal from. 

“I want to, but we shouldn’t…” She had tried to get the words out when she found herself floating away, waking up with muddled memories of what had happened in the dream.

She blamed her incessant and confusing dreams the next few nights on the stranger, still somewhat in denial that the first dream had been of him. But it _had_ been. Perhaps she’d seen him at Rolling Scones once before and her dream had picked up on his image. It was a mere coincidence that she had seen him the morning after a dream he was in. 

That was it, it must be. Though he wasn’t conventionally attractive, she hadn’t found the man ugly. She didn’t find herself conventionally attractive either, and the way their bodies had been connected in that dream made it feel like…

Squinting her eyes tight, she summoned the energy to pull herself out of bed in an attempt to halt the explicit thoughts she was having about a stranger before going to work. 

* * *

For all her attempts to force her mind elsewhere, she still found herself lost in musings of the stranger the next day, after yet _another_ tantalizing dream. She had been nervously anticipating when she would see the man in question again, as it wasn’t clear how she was supposed to return the book to him. She assumed the library three days from their initial meeting, but at what time? How would she get in? It would be strange to stick her face in the window all day until someone showed up, right? 

The prospect of entering the old library thrilled her, as she had only seen it from the street, but she also did not fancy her hopes rising further than they had already. He may not even let her in, he may just take the book and send her on her way. 

She hardly knew the man, he could be a killer, or worse…

And despite all of her internal excitement, her nerves were still shot at the prospect of meeting the mystery man to simply return the book, and it didn’t help that the dream she had about him that night was even more intimate than the one before. Dreams of this nature were not common from her memory of herself, but her memory felt foggy in general as of late. Though the dream in question was not one she would like to soon forget. 

They had been curled in a large bathtub together, she had been surprised at the warmth, though the snow was visible from a window nearby. He had held her close, her back to his chest. It hadn’t felt uncomfortable, even if she still did not know his name. 

It would be a silly question to ask in a dream, especially at this moment. Her dreams of him felt real, tangible; moments she had forgotten but her mind was forcing her to relive. Clearly not the case, as she had never met the man in her life but that did not matter here. This, this was a moment where she found she was more comfortable with herself than she had felt in a long time, and it wasn’t even real. 

It was silent, aside from a variety of natural sounds around them; the movement of water, a fire crackling in a room nearby, wind gently pushing at the windows. The silence permeated as all of her dreams had thus far, and his sudden movement sent shivers up her spine. 

He had leaned further back against the tub and pulled her with him, one arm resting at her thigh and the other stroking her arm. It was a tender moment that she would have liked to remain in forever. 

A quiet voice came from her, not planned at all, but she hardly seemed to have control over her actions in these dreams, only her thoughts, “This is everything to me, us here.” 

He did not say anything in response, but she felt the tug of her waist as he twisted her around to face him, her chest on his now. Their eyes met and she could feel the desire within them burning into her own, but before either could make another move, she jolted awake.

The dreams were becoming increasingly explicit, and though she had found the man interesting and attractive in his own way, it was surprising to her just how much her subconscious was reacting to him. It was strange, but seeing him in the tender moments in her foolish dreams made her yearn to get to know him more, and luckily, that day had finally arrived. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 Prompts from thebarsofhisplight  
> Day 4 Prompts from Umbrella_ella  
> This one is shorter so the next chapter should be up in a few hours as well!


	3. Pumpkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two pumpkins _and_ two children?

She approached the old library slowly that morning, it seemed to leer over her menacingly. An old metal plaque read _Reverbourn Public Library_ but was rusted orange and peeling in places. It was not a way she had ever felt in viewing the old building, in fact, she had always seen it as an old home despite not recalling ever having entered it in her life. Perhaps she had been as a child and the memory was now lost to her. 

The book in hand, she glanced around one more time before rapping on the double red doors. 

Standing awkwardly, she waited a moment and took in her surroundings again. The only people in sight were a few shopkeepers turning their closed signs around for their 8 am opening time. Knocking once more, she suddenly felt it was stupid to have expected to see him today, though she had put extra effort into her appearance that morning with that expectation in mind. She should just drop the book by the entrance and leave. 

And that had been her intention, that is until she turned to see the man in question walking on the pavement across the street. It much contrasted to his appearance three days earlier, now clad in shorts, a cagoule, and trainers, she also noted that his long dark hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck. The look suited him in a strangely appealing way, though that may have been her dreams of his legs around her seeping into her conscious mind. His appearance was not the most perplexing thing about him at the moment, however. 

Pumpkins. 

He was carrying pumpkins, one on each shoulder. He didn’t notice her staring at first from their distance, and she couldn’t fight the amusement her face held when he caught her eyes and laughed at him as he pulled them from his shoulders to hold in front of him. 

He crossed the street in a brisk jog and gently sat the pumpkins down, one on either side of the library doors. 

“I brought you—” she began, as he too started to speak.

“I see you ret—”

Their words had been said in unison and he had smirked as she closed her mouth to let him continue. 

“I apologize, I’m thankful I caught you before you left. I meant to be here the majority of the day but a few things came up.” 

“Like pumpkins?” _Really?_ Why did she find it impossible to talk like a human around this man? _Maybe because you keep having dirty dreams about him,_ her thoughts had answered for her. 

He gave a brief chuckle, “Yes, like pumpkins.” He wiped his hands off on his side before looking up at her, “It was Marnie, right?” 

“Right, Marnie Halston,” she bit her lip, “Not Maureen.” She literally had her entire foot in her mouth. 

“Not Maureen. Understood. Danior, Danior Driscoll. No nicknames involved,” he extended a hand to her. 

“Understood.” His continuous smirk was causing her stomach to flutter beyond her control, especially as she shook his hand. The briefest of touches had sent her mind in a whirlwind of thoughts she’d prefer not having at the present moment.

“I can take the book now, or if you’d like to discuss it you can walk with me? 

“I have time, I can walk I suppose.” 

They fell in step with one another, having left the pumpkins and the book outside the library. She fidgeted with her hands some as they walked. 

“Did you enjoy it?” She glanced at him, confused for only a moment. 

“Oh, the book, yes! I did, very much. Your notes were intriguing as well,” she paused in thought, wondering if she should continue to discuss the book or ask the question she truly wanted to ask. 

Before he could say anything else she decided on the latter. 

“How do you have access to the library?” It was her own curiosity that had bested her, and hopefully he would not find her too forward. 

“Ah, you asked me this the other day.” That wasn’t an answer, so she stayed quiet until he spoke again. They were heading in the direction of the small neighbourhood near the town centre. 

“I suppose the simple answer to my having connections did not fulfill your curiosity. The more detailed answer is that my family owned it at one point but we did not have the funding to keep it running. We now live above the building.” 

“We?” 

Before he could respond, she realized they had stopped at a fenced-in front lawn where several children were sitting in front of a familiar face. Gwen Shorttop, Molly’s daughter, was attempting to read to the children in front of her until she saw them standing at her gate and waved. 

She could hear the woman shout at them as they began to jump up and run around in response to the interruption, “Come on now, hey kids, spelling _is_ fun!” Assuming the children had taken her wave as a symbol to stop behaving, they ignored her and she shut the book in exasperation. 

She recognized two of the children as belonging to Gwen because they often visited the bakery. Another child she vaguely recognized as a cousin of theirs, and then there were two she had never seen before. 

The small sandy-haired girl and tall ginger boy belonged to Gwen and her husband Ned, their children were the spitting image of them. The other ginger child she believed belonged to Gwen’s brother, Ron, who she had some history with. The final two children were not known to her, though she felt she knew most people in the town. As they came running, she saw a small spark of familiarity upon seeing them up close, though she still could not place them. 

The taller one was a girl, no more than twelve she guessed, with jet black frizzy hair and a light complexion. A smaller boy followed in her footsteps, likely around seven or eight, his hair was pin-straight and was a darker brown, yet they were clearly siblings as they shared many of the same facial features, notably their chestnut brown eyes in the same round shape. It was odd that she felt she recognized these children, but to her memory, they had never been in Rolling Scones so she knew it wasn’t possible for her to know them. 

Especially after the shout that came from the smallest of the two. 

“Daddy!” 

Danior had caught the young boy with ease as he had jumped up at him, catching him mid-air and pulling him over the short fence. 

He looked so delightfully at ease with them, though obviously he would be as they were his children. Her discomfort grew, as she had clearly been lusting after a man who had a family. 

“Thank you for inviting them,” he shouted at Gwen who waved and smiled at him in response. The kids in turn waved goodbye to their friends. His daughter had walked to the gate entrance and caught up to them at the end of the pavement. She felt the urge to leave but hadn’t an inkling how to do so without making the situation more awkward than necessary. 

“Ah kids, this is Ms. Halston, Ms. Halston this is Ella and Patrick,” he nodded at each of the children as he said their names. 

She smiled politely but it felt more like a grimace internally, she had never felt she was good with children.

“Hi there, you can call me Marnie, Ms. Halston is my mother.” The girl had snorted, she supposed she could have said worse. 

“Nice to meet you, Marnie,” the little boy had held out his hand and she took it. He was adorable, though she had never felt the desire to have kids of her own, he was bringing that into question.

“Nice to meet you as well, Patrick,” she smiled at him and then at the girl. 

Ella was staring at her, and she had the strongest feeling she was being surveyed and judged by the child, which wasn’t comforting in the height of the unease she already held. 

“As we were discussing before, we live above the library. You are more than welcome to visit at any time.” 

After a pause, much longer than necessary, she spoke. 

“I _just_ might take you up on that,” she grinned. It couldn’t be helped, her dream had always been to enter that library and now her chance had come. If it meant being undeniably attracted to a man she could not have and strange looks from a little girl, she supposed she could deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts from my fandom sister, multilingualism! I loved writing this one bunches, almost as much as I love you!


	4. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visitor leads Marnie back to the library.

It had been several days and she hadn’t had any more dreams of Danior, thankfully. She also had yet to see him. Walking into work each day, she had glanced a hopeful eye over to the table where she had first met him, but he was never there. 

She wondered just what had brought him in that day, but perhaps it was not that mysterious. Maybe he had been hungry and just happened to cross the bakery, the food was just as good as anywhere else in town so it was possible he merely did not stop there often in preference of another location. 

Despite her lack of dreams, it was clear that she still could not get him off her mind. 

Cleaning off her last table for the evening, she heard the tinkling of the door opening and turned to greet the late visitor, but instead she saw–

“Patrick?” 

He was sporting a boyish grin and was cradling something in his arms, and that something seemed to be moving.

“Marnie! My dad said you worked here. I found this little guy just outside the shop here and thought maybe you could help.” 

She walked closer, untying her apron as she approached, and knelt down upon realizing what the boy had. 

“Oh my goodness,” it was a tiny kitten, almost entirely black save for a little white chin.

“Do you think my dad will let me keep it?” 

She didn’t know Danior well enough to answer the question, but for some reason her gut compelled her to say, “Maybe so, you might just have to show him you’re up to the task of caring for it.” 

He grinned at her, the kid was really sweet. 

“Come on, let me lock up. I’ll grab you a croissant and walk you home. If he says no this time, I’ll take the kitten home with me until he says yes.” She had no idea what was causing her to say the words, it was entirely out of character but it just felt right. 

But, then again, she did love cats. 

As they walked, she glanced down at the kid as he coddled the kitten. He was lost in a trance and she wondered how he had ended up outside the bakery to begin with. 

“Patrick, why were you on this side of town?” He appeared abashed at first but remembered his reasoning after a moment. 

“Oh! I came to ask you something but then I found the kitten and I forgot. My sister thinks you might be our mom. Are you?” 

She began to cough, it was nearly a fit but she regained control after a moment. He had stopped walking and waited for her, patiently. 

“I– well, no, I’m flattered Patrick but I had never met your father before last week.” 

He started to walk again and spoke casually with her, despite her apparent shock. 

“Well, that’s the thing. Ella thinks you don’t remember and neither does dad because we’re all under a curse. She found a book in the library, it was in a section we aren’t really supposed to be in but dad was out so she snuck it out and has been reading it. It has a bunch of stories and she thinks you and dad are a part of them.” 

She was silent for several moments before she realized he was staring at her, waiting for a response.

“So… so are you and Ella a part of them, these stories?” 

“No, it’s just the story of how you two fell in love so we aren’t in it, I think.” He nibbled on his croissant with one hand and cuddled the kitten to his neck with the other. 

“Got it,” she lied, absolutely bewildered at his question and statement. 

But this also led her to another realization, “Are you saying that you and Ella don’t have a mother?”

“Well, no,” he skirted around the question for a second by adjusting the kitten on his chest, “At least dad has never talked about her. He gets all weird when either of us asks questions. Ella hardly remembers anything about her, and I was just a baby.” 

“I see.” 

“You won’t tell him about Ella taking the book, will you? I promised Ella I wouldn’t say anything but I wanted to know if you were my mum.” He looked extremely worried, and though she knew better than to take pity on him, it seemed innocent enough. Children reading a book of make-believe stories wasn’t something she could see him getting angry at, anyway. 

“I promise I won’t tell.” 

He smiled at her in thanks and they continued their walk between silence and fawning over the kitten and Patrick suggesting names here and there. 

They had finally reached the tall building that contained the library and the Driscoll residence. She couldn’t believe she had never realized people had lived above it, though it now appeared to be obvious. There were drapes hanging in the upstairs windows and other home decor was visible from afar as well. She surveyed the building further, noticing that the children had carved the pumpkins that Danior had bought, they now sat outside the building already glowing with the low setting sun. 

Patrick pulled a keychain from his pocket and put one of the few keys he had in the door. It clicked open and he allowed her in, turning to lock it behind him as she stood with her mouth agape.

It was magnificent. 

She had seen through the darkened windows how the interior of the library appeared before, but it was more than she could have ever dreamed of. Rows upon rows of tall mahogany shelves, all full from top to bottom. The vastness of the building shocked her, it had never seemed this large from the outside. 

It was an old building, but clearly well cared for; she admired the intricate details in the murals on the walls. Fantasy-themed, with what looked like wands aiming red and green lights from across a field outside a castle, it felt familiar to her but it was not from a story she had ever read to the best of her recollection.

There was a clatter from the end of one row of shelves and Patrick’s sister, Ella, poked her head out. 

“Pat, what are you-?” Ella stopped mid-sentence as she saw her standing behind him. 

“What’s she doing here, Pat?” 

He looked nervous and held out his arms, “I found a kitten outside the place she works, she wanted to walk me home when I went in to show her.” 

“Oh. Neat, let me see!” The girl picked up a more childlike glee upon seeing the kitten, she set the book she had been holding down and knelt to get a better look at the kitten in her brother’s arms. 

“What are you going to name him?” She grinned up at him, when there was a sound from above and she got a panicked look on her face and turned to tuck the book she had been reading on the nearest shelf. That was probably the book she was not supposed to have, she guessed, given the child’s worried glance up at her. She pretended like she hadn’t seen a thing and looked over at the counter that contained the catalog boxes. 

“Pat, Ella! Dinner is-,” he came from around a corner of a row of shelves on the left hand side of the room where she assumed a staircase was hidden, given the height and multitude of shelves. 

“Well, hello there Ms. Halston, it’s late. What can I do for you?” 

She was Ms. Halston now, was she? Her face felt warm as she spoke, “Sorry, I was just walking Patrick here home and he showed me in.”

“It was my fault, dad! I found this little guy here outside her work and wanted to show her!” 

He walked closer now, in the dim light that the nearby lamp gave she could see he was wearing a white t-shirt and loose-fitting trousers, his hair was down again as it was when she had first seen him. She couldn’t decide how she preferred his appearance but she couldn’t help noting his looks each time she saw him, whether in person or in her dreams. 

She watched as his son held the kitten up to his eyes, he sighed forlornly and she could tell the children had already won, but they didn’t know that yet. 

“It can stay for the night, we will discuss it more tomorrow. You two run up and get ready for dinner.” 

“Yes, dad.” They echoed to him before leaving the same way Danior had entered. 

“I apologize if he interrupted you at work, Marnie.” So… she was Marnie without the kids present? 

“It’s fine, I was just closing up. Plus it was a good excuse to finally check this place out.” She was still looking around in awe, already heading toward a shelf nearby, having been unable to keep her hands off any longer. 

She eventually noticed him smirking at her from the corner of her eye, clearly in amusement at her inability to keep her hands to herself. If only he knew how he was in her dreams… 

“I was worried when you hadn’t returned, I supposed the children had scared you off,” he approached her casually and grabbed a book from a higher shelf she had been eyeing and handed it to her. 

“Not quite, I was worried that…” she paused, glancing at the ceiling where she could hear the footsteps of his children walking about. 

“It’s alright, my daughter can be quite intimidating at times. I’m not sure where she gets it, honestly.” She laughed at this, though she found the man she knew in her dreams quite intimidating at times, this version of Danior did not strike her as such. 

“That’s not it, no,” she held the book close, “I just thought after seeing you with kids that their mother may not want me to intrude on your home.” 

His face fell some and she felt she had said the wrong thing, “No, their mother passed, several years ago now. Not long after Patrick was born.” 

“I see, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just did not want to intrude on your family is all.” His voice returned to normal when he responded. 

“No intrusion at all, you seem as interested in these books as dear Ella is, though Pat sometimes makes his way down, now that he’s older.” 

He was making conversation with her now, and the hour was becoming late but she had no desire to leave. She felt she had to keep the conversation going for as long as possible. 

“It’s always been my dream to reopen this place,” she felt the spines of a few books before adding at his unchanged expression, “I have a large jar I add to each time I get paid, I don’t suppose I ever thought about determining who actually owns the place though,” she smiled over at him. 

“It just didn’t do well, we lost most of our funding and couldn’t afford to keep it up on our own means. They let me keep the building and now I do odd jobs to afford the necessities for myself and the children.” 

“I see… is that why I had never seen you before?” 

He looked at her, resigned, leaning against a shelf and explained, “I had never been able to afford to take the children there, but I had just come from a job interview and felt hopeful, and since I was by myself I had assumed I earned the treat having thought the interview went well. The food was excellent, by the way.” 

“Yes, until you had your coffee spilled, I’m sure.”

“I suppose it was worth it, as I did get to meet you in the process.” Unsure how to respond to this, she reached for another book at random. 

“So, the job interview, what came of it?” 

He shrugged, “I haven’t heard anything so I suppose nothing came of it.” 

“Don’t put yourself out so quickly, Danior, it hasn’t been that long.” She tried to sound hopeful, though he did not seem to take it to heart. 

“I’ve got a bad reputation around here, Marnie. It’s complicated so I won’t delve into it, but I have a feeling I did not get the job.” 

It was an odd moment, she felt she knew the man well despite having only known him hardly a week. 

“If they don’t hire you, they are sorely missing out, Danior. You seem like an amazing father and from what I can tell, a respectable man, despite the reputation you say you have.” 

He did not respond, but she could see he was thankful for her words. 

They did not say much else for the next half hour, he let her leave with a handful of books and she promised to return them when finished. 

“I do not doubt that,” he gave her one last smile before locking the door behind her as she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts from Viridiantly for this chapter! Love you, dad! 😛


	5. Woolgathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another dream, and a new regular patron at the Rolling Scones.

She was in a bed but was not surrounded by her familiar white sheets and lilac comforter. The room around her was not one she recalled ever being in, squinting about in her half-awake state. Shifting her arms into a sitting position, she took in her surroundings. It was a dark room with navy hangings around a four-poster bed. 

There was the sound of light tapping on glass, she pulled herself up and walked over to the source of the noise. Through a partially opened window, she saw an owl perched on the sill using its beak to beckon her. 

_Beckon her?_ She knew owls could not communicate with humans but the creature clearly wanted her attention, and without thinking, she pushed the window up further to allow it entry. It took a few hops nearer to her and held out a talon, causing her to jump back. After a moment, she realized the bird was not trying to attack her, it was delivering something. 

A scroll was attached to its leg as well as a tiny pouch; she inched closer cautiously, still fearful of the sharp talons. Reaching forward steadily, she untied the scroll and pouch from its leg and backed away. The owl hooted at her in a way that she interpreted as indignant and flew out the open window. _How strange..._

Pulling open the pouch first, she saw what appeared to be biscuits, noting upon closer inspection they were in the shape of small lizards. Unraveling the small scroll, she read the spiky handwriting in utter confusion. 

_Ginger newts in honour of the ginger newt you had the pleasure of transfiguring last evening. See you soon._

_-S_

Deciding to concern herself over the strange note at a later time, she set it on the nearby bedside table, in preference of determining just where she was at the moment.

She realized she was only clad in a gown, definitely not what she had fallen asleep in. 

Had she drank too much last night and ended up at someone’s house? 

She looked out the nearest window, the surroundings were completely unfamiliar and she became nervous. 

Where _was_ she? 

Looking about the room, she found no sign of anything that would point her in the direction of her whereabouts until she spotted a photograph on a chest of drawers nearby. Snatching it up, she nearly dropped it when she noticed the people in the picture were moving. Even more shocking, the people in the picture were of Danior and herself. They appeared to be outside a large stone building, it was almost reminiscent of the library she knew and loved, but with various details changed, such as the colour of the doors. 

This photograph in addition to an owl delivering her an odd note was enough to convince her this was all a dream, deciding the best thing to do now was to try and go _back_ to sleep, perhaps that would help rid her of the fantasies for one night. 

She climbed back into the comfortable bed and closed her eyes, it was almost too easy to drift listlessly away, until—

A body suddenly pressed against her back, and with those all too familiar hands and long fingers gripping her shoulder; her instincts told her she was safe. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Miss Granger.” 

Awaking with a start in the real world, she tossed herself around and faced the opposite wall, perplexed. 

“ _Who the bloody hell is Miss Granger_?” She wondered aloud before falling back into a deep sleep. 

* * *

Little Patrick Driscoll had become a regular at Rolling Scones in the following days. He never bought anything but occupied the same table she had first met Danior in. Molly gave her an irksome look whenever she gave him a croissant or other pastry, but she never said a word on the matter. 

Her boss may have been brazen in nature, but she would never throw a hungry child out of her establishment. She was respected for being a matronly type, but could certainly be frightening when necessary. 

On one evening, in particular, she had been lost in thought about Danior once again and Molly had come around the counter, slapping it with a spoon. 

“Stop your woolgathering and get to work, Marnie!” 

It was on this very day, the fourth day of Pat’s presence in her workplace, that she took notice of the threadbare sweater he wore. She was inspired by Molly’s odd colloquialism earlier and considered him thoughtfully before approaching him during their slow hour. 

“What have you got there, Pat?” 

He grinned, looking up from his book, _“The Little Prince_. I really like it so far, I usually don’t like to read much but this story is pretty neat. How did you like your books?” 

Despite his lack of interest in literature, much unlike his sister and father, the boy was clearly intelligent and showed interest in many other areas. 

“Oh, they were wonderful. I should be over to return them tomorrow. Listen, I have a question for you.” 

He sat straighter as she went on, “It’s not that interesting, don’t get too excited,” she laughed, “What…is your favorite colour?” 

He didn’t seem disappointed in being asked such an uninteresting question, though kids seemed to find talking about themselves the height of interesting topics, in her little experience with them at least. 

“Green! Like… Darker green, or I guess any shade of green. Like leaves on a tree! Ella likes purple and teal and dad really likes red, I think.” 

Though she hadn’t asked about his sister’s or Danior’s favorite colours, she tucked the information away for later. 

After he left she went to ask Molly for some yarn to knit a sweater for Pat with. She luckily lived above the shop so it wasn’t a far trek to get the materials, making herself comfortable in Molly’s living room. 

Though she felt she had marginally decent knitting skills, she was accustomed to making hats and scarves, she rarely took it upon herself to make something as extravagant as what she was hoping to create here. 

After some time she realized that Molly was watching her, obviously resisting the urge to help based on the pitying yet somehow judgmental look she had across her face. It was high time she admitted she needed the help though, this was exhausting. After yet another dropped stitch, she sighed aloud and looked pleadingly at her boss. The woman understood immediately and walked over, taking it from her. 

It hadn’t taken her long to fix and she continued on for a few minutes, Marnie supposed to show her how it was done before giving it back. 

An odd bonding activity, she felt her boss was warmer to her than usual in her display of friendliness toward a child. She hadn’t even asked questions about who he belonged to, though if Danior was correct about his reputation in the town, she felt that may have been for the best. Molly had a habit of listening to gossip, anyway. 

The next few days she spent extra hours upstairs with Molly after closing, finally finishing the sweater late one evening. Well, it wasn’t too late… only a little after 7. Danior and the kids would still be up, right? 

Giving Molly a quick hug in thanks, she left the store from the rear exit with the completed sweater folded in her arms. 

Arriving at the steps to the library, she knocked. She was accustomed to one of the children letting her in, as such, it was a surprise when Danior was the one to unlock the door and allow her entry. 

“A little late for literature, isn’t it?” 

She smiled, “It’s never too late for that but that’s not why I’m here. Is Pat still up? I made him a gift.” Holding out the sweater to him, she suddenly hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting. 

His face did not reveal his thoughts, unfortunately. 

“What is the occasion?” He held it up and examined it while she formulated her response. 

“No occasion really, he’s just been spending some time at Rolling Scones and I thought he earned himself a gift for being such good business.”

Danior cocked a brow at her, he knew his son hadn’t been buying anything, of course. 

“I appreciate it, I’m sure he will too,” he paused, giving her a look she couldn’t quite interpret. He then walked a few paces to his right and shouted up the staircase hidden from her view.

“Pat! Come down here for a moment, please.” After a few seconds, the boy in question came running around the corner and came to a halt in front of them.

“Ms. Halston here was just telling me you’ve been spending time in her workplace, is that true?” He nodded sheepishly in response but she cut in. 

“Danior, it really isn’t a problem, he doesn’t bother anyone. We quite love having him there. He’s become a regular and is liked by many of our patrons, it would be terrible to not have him come in anymore.” Danior had turned to look at her as she spoke, she couldn’t tell if he was upset with her but she didn’t want to be the cause of the child getting in trouble. 

Pat grinned at her but quickly hid it as his father cut his eyes back at him. 

“If that is the case, I suppose it is fine. Do try to not damage this gift Ms. Halston has made for you,” Pat took the sweater that his father held out to him and jumped ecstatically, immediately throwing it on over his presently worn shirt. 

“Excellent! This is why you asked me about my favorite colour, isn’t it Marnie?” He patted it down and turned in a circle, “I love it, thanks!” The child then ran and threw his arms around her into a tight hug. She awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, unsure of how she was meant to respond. Danior merely smirked at her, he knew she must be uncomfortable given her expression. 

“Alright, Pat. That’s enough, go on up to bed. Take that off and hang it up, you can wear it in the morning.” The boy let her go at this and whispered thanks once more before sprinting back to the corner he had initially appeared from. 

“Er, I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to overstep.” 

“No need to apologize, if you truly appreciate his coming then I am fine with it. He never got out much in the past, I’m sure it is good for him.”

She shuffled her feet, it was getting late she noted as she glanced at the large clock above them, “Sorry for coming so late, I should have waited until tomorrow.”

“As I said before, no need to apologize,” he walked closer and she felt her stomach flip as he moved past her, his shoulders brushing against her own, “Here, I’ll walk you out.” 

“Thank you,” were all the words she managed. 

“No, thank you, Marnie. Have a good evening,” and he gave her a small smile before locking the door as she stepped out onto the pavement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts from LunaP999 and misspeaches, much love to you both!


	6. Golden Ticket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having relived her inevitable breakup with Ron in a dream, Marnie decides to visit old friends.

She had no dreams of Danior for some time, owing this to the innumerable amount of time she had spent in the library, often late into the evening. 

Therefore, she was caught by surprise when she had yet another strange dream that night, a few weeks since her last. They played out like a movie told in two parts; the first part was unpleasant to relive as it was a true memory, and the second part was just downright peculiar.

Ron. He had been nearly her first everything, but that had never been enough for him. Their entire relationship felt as if it was built on arguments. They ranged from minor, insignificant things to extremely important parts of their life: where they would eat vs. where they would live; making space for her book collection vs. making space for his gambling addiction; inviting her mum over for dinner once a month vs. him disappearing to his mum’s for weeks at a time. 

In the dream, everything about the ending of their relationship remained the same, from their final argument, to the insults they had hurled at one another, and finally, the insignificance she had felt. 

He had ended their relationship with a perfunctory, “I don't love you like I did yesterday.” 

Everything had been a real memory for her up to the point of her storming out of their flat. 

Her mind’s surroundings flashed before her after she had left, somehow her dream self had disappeared with a pop and reappeared before a large, stone building. This building was the very same she had been photographed in front of with Danior in her last dream two weeks prior. It had a large ornate wooden door, but was not painted red, in fact it hadn’t been painted at all. 

The door did not appear to be as ominous upon approaching as she had felt in the dream walking toward the cupboard with the key. Pulling this door open hadn't caused her to wake up either, and she was thrilled at this fact upon seeing what the building contained. It was exactly what she had thought, or rather hoped, despite the lack of signage outside.

It was indeed a library, _much_ larger than Danior’s. And it was silent, she was sure the building was empty but that did not frighten her any. The door clicked behind her and she began rounding the shelves, running her finger along the antique spines as she walked. 

Her subconscious _would_ throw her into an extensive library collection following a forced reliving of her inevitable breakup, a golden ticket so to speak. 

She wondered if she could sit in this library and read, even though it was a dream? Pulling a book from a shelf at random, she started to open it when a sharp voice came from behind her. 

“I would not recommend opening that.” 

It was Danior’s voice, but when she turned to meet his eyes, he was not the man she knew. He was clearly not happy to see her as he had been in so many of her other dreams. _This_ Danior was frightening in demeanor and the face he had pulled at her was downright unpleasant, likely leading her dream self to the caustic response that fell from her lips. 

“And why shouldn’t I?” 

He cut his eyes at her; it was mildly disconcerting. 

“I would have thought an insufferable know-it-all would have the common sense to read the name of the section you are currently standing in.” 

At this, she glanced up. _Curses?_ Curses were not real issues to be concerned over, why was he being such an arse?

“Fine, is this one safe to touch then?” She had grabbed another text at random and held it up, she hadn’t even taken note of the title herself. His bilious attitude was certainly to blame for her dream self to respond in equal derision; she would have done just the same had she been awake. But he had ignored her and stalked off without another word. 

_Well, that was odd_. 

Her dream then faded to black but she did not wake up. 

* * *

After that night’s dream, she found herself leaning against visiting the library, though it was her day off. Her time during off-hours the past few weeks had been spent almost entirely in the library. When she inquired as to why he allowed her to continue to invade their privacy, Danior had claimed no one would appreciate the tomes as she did, which may very well be true. He had even been inviting her up to dinner on several of these occasions, much to the delight of Pat, and possibly Ella as well. She did not seem to show much emotion unless their newly beloved kitten Charlie was around, affectionately named after the protagonist of their favorite Roald Dahl novel. 

Her recent dream had painted Danior as an unpleasant fellow for the first time, which she found unbelievably odd. In an attempt to get her mind off this, she decided to visit the only other friends she had kept close since school ended. Harry and Luna owned a pub together at the town centre, but she rarely made an appearance as it wasn’t her typical scene. 

Ron appearing in her dream had resurrected old feelings she had toward one of her once closest friends. Despite Harry still being friends with Ron in some sense of the word, she and Harry had remained close. She knew he had distanced himself after Ron maintained that he was in the right in all facets of their relationship; Harry knew better. 

Luna was not really a friend of hers in school, more of an acquaintance, but she had grown to enjoy the eccentric woman’s company. 

Entering the bar during daylight was different, as it was not as busy as they were at night. It was a popular location in the town, given Harry’s veteran status. 

“Marnie! I haven’t seen you in some time, how are you?” Luna came around the counter and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m good, I’ve been busy… between work and,” she paused, unsure how much she wanted to say, but it was Luna. She wouldn’t tell a soul if she asked her not to.

“And I have, well, I may have met someone.” Luna smiled brightly, holding her hands tight. 

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Marnie! Come sit and tell me all about it.”

She pulled her over to a corner with cushions on the floor and string lights hanging about. It was an eclectic taste and part of why she rarely visited the bar, as she tried to make herself comfortable on the floor with nothing but a cushion to support her buttocks. 

“Well,” she shifted again, it was no use to continue trying to find a comfortable position, “He owns the old library, he actually lives above it with his two kids.” Luna’s face revealed some slight surprise but she said nothing. “He says they lost funding to keep the library open but he has been letting me visit often to peruse the selection, he’s quite sweet…” 

“What about the children?” Luna knew of her avoidance of children, she avoided holding anyone’s child until they were old enough to not feel breakable.

“Well, they’re quite nice. The eldest is a little secluded but she’s a bookworm, so I can understand that a little too well. His youngest is… Well, he seems to have taken quite a liking to me, to be honest.” 

Luna had leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, her flexibility always surprised her given their age. 

“I think that’s wonderful, Marnie. What about the man, who is he?” 

She suddenly remembered the reputation he was rumoured to have, though she was unsure if Luna would know either. Luna wasn’t the type to tune in on every inch of gossip in the town. 

“Danior Driscoll.” 

Luna did seem astonished at the name, she had straightened herself back up before responding. 

“I’ve never met him but I have heard of him.” Luna was lost in thought now, she had to snap her out of it if she wanted to know what she knew. 

“Luna, what do you know about Danior?” 

Before Luna could respond, Harry had appeared from her side. 

“What are you asking about Danior for, Marnie?” He was looking at her with an air of concern. 

“I’ve just been spending some time with him, he lives above the old library so he’s been letting me in to look through the books.” Harry had taken a seat next to them as business was still slow at the moment. 

“You haven’t been alone with him, have you?” She didn’t like his tone in that question. 

“Not really… He has two children, they are usually around. Why?” 

Luna spoke now, “Well, the rumours were never proven, Marnie. He served with Harry in the war but when they got back, Harry said that Danior wasn’t the same and…” 

“Most of the town thinks he’s behind the death of his wife,” Harry said flatly. 

_Oh_. That couldn’t be true. Danior was harmless. 

“I can’t believe that. I’ve spent a lot of time with him and those kids, I couldn’t see him hurting a fly.” 

Harry looked at her skeptically, he likely doubted her as he had when she constantly maintained her faith in Ron.

“I’m not set on believing he did it either, Marnie. I just think he could be a little dangerous, we did our final mission together and he very nearly died more than once, and I think maybe all that pain went to his head. He took more lives than anyone in our unit.” She had no idea he had been involved in the war, he had never said anything, but it must be a difficult thing to discuss if what Harry said was true. 

“Why do people think he killed his wife?” 

Luna answered this, “Because she disappeared, no warning, no goodbyes. She was there one day and gone the next. No one even remembers her well, she was a quiet thing… But after she hadn’t been seen in some days, the rumours spread. There was an investigation of some kind I think, but it was never conclusive.” 

That was terrible, but it didn’t make her think he killed her. 

“I still don’t see how that makes him a murderer.” 

Luna gave her a kind smile, “Of course you don’t, Marnie, I don’t really either. People just like to talk.” 

“But you should still be safe when you’re with him, Marnie. Maybe phone me when you visit or something like that?” 

“Harry, I will be fine. He hasn’t shown an ounce of hostility toward me, ever.” 

Well, that was maybe a lie, but the version of him that had been hostile was in a dream so _that_ didn’t count. 

“Fine, but if he ever does…” 

“You’ll be the first to know.” She smiled up at him as he pulled himself up to serve the handful of patrons that had just entered. The night was upon them now. 

“Is there anything else you wanted to talk about, Marnie?” 

She shifted uncomfortably again, “Er, well, I’ve been having these dreams—and, ah, well Danior is in them. Sometimes they are sweet and other times quite explicit.” Luna giggled at this some and she cracked a smile as well. 

“Only…” 

“Only, what, Marnie?”

Sighing, she knew she was going to sound insane, “They’re less like dreams and more like memories. Like they play out as familiar moments that I’ve just forgotten, and sometimes people I know are called strange names I’ve never heard before, but they just _fit_. And, this will sound crazy, I know, but I had my first dream of Danior the night _before_ I met him, Luna, I swear it’s true.” 

Luna didn’t seem to think anything she had said was crazy, of course, she had forgotten who she was talking to. Luna had a habit of being a little in the clouds, even if she hadn’t smoked a thing. 

“That’s interesting, then perhaps Danior is meant to be in your life. I would interpret them not as memories, but maybe something to look forward to? You’ve always wanted to own that library, this could be your golden ticket opportunity.” She did rather like that interpretation, but it didn’t shake the familiarity of her dreams in comparison to her real life. 

Then there was Patrick and Ella’s theory of them being under a curse, and then her having a dream of being in a library section called curses. That had to be a coincidence, their theory had simply influenced her dreams. Curses weren’t real and neither was magic. Instead of telling Luna this to cause her further worry about her state of mind, she asked for a drink. 

Grinning, Luna stood and pulled her up in the process. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” 

After one too many, she hobbled her way outside. Luna had offered to walk her but she felt stable enough to walk to her flat that was a mere two blocks away. 

She had hardly walked half a block when she heard that too familiar voice. What, was she dreaming while awake now? 

“Do you need a hand?” 

Turning, she saw Danior approach her, he was clad in those black trousers and a burgundy coat, a white T-shirt peeking through it. 

“Is that really you or am I dreaming?” 

Had she really just said that? She crossed her fingers hoping it had come out too quiet for him to understand. 

“It’s really me,” he laughed and came to catch her arm as she tripped. 

“Would it be impolite for me to ask to walk you home?” 

She shook her head, completely ignoring Harry’s words from earlier. His hand had felt so warm on her bare arm, she couldn’t see a reason to deny him. 

“I don’t know where you live so you’ll have to lead the way.” 

“Right, I can do that.” She stumbled forward and he caught her again. 

“Here, just wrap your arm here,” he had gently pulled her arm around his shoulders and pulled her up by the waist, “There, easier now?” 

She nodded, though she felt more uncoordinated than ever with his arm around her waist. It was all her cognitive effort to lead him the rest of the way to her flat. They hadn’t exchanged many words, as it was difficult to speak, but he had wished her a goodnight and hoped she would visit the library soon. He hadn’t even walked her up, he was too much of a gentleman to find that appropriate, she told herself. How could Harry ever think a man like that was capable of murdering his wife? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For LadyHeliotrope and QDrew! Love you both bunches! 💛


	7. Magic Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marnie wakes up with some regret, the children are on a mission, and why on earth should anyone feel threatened by a wand? Magic isn't real, after all.

She found herself sitting at a desk in what was clearly a bedroom, but for some reason she was scantily clad in a too-short skirt and an entirely unbuttoned white blouse with her hands tied together behind her. It was not until she saw Danior approach from her side, fully clothed in questionable attire, that she fully grasped the reality of the direction this dream was going. 

“You have been a bad girl, haven’t you?”

She felt a slight blush tinge her cheeks when he spoke, but as he loomed over her, she felt her body go red all over; _this_ was not something she could see herself actually attempting to replicate in real life. But his eyes laid on her with such intensity that she tried to go along with it, it was her dream after all. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I have.” 

He slammed his hands down on the desk, startling her enough to jump. She was finding it difficult to stay serious, even so, his response caused her to bite her lip nervously. He really could be intimidating, couldn’t he? 

“You failed _miserably_ on your last three essays, your punishment in this detention will be,” she let herself be exposed as he shoved the desk out of the way, “to listen to my instructions very… closely.” 

She _definitely_ couldn’t do this, she was already holding back a laugh. 

“Sorry, but what was wrong with my essays, sir?” 

His voice broke the character he had clearly been putting on for her as he responded with a quizzical, “Excuse me?” 

She began to laugh, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. It was fun though!” 

He gave her a smirk and pulled her up from the chair, their chests barely touching as he untied her hands, but never taking his eyes off her own. 

“No matter, we can still enjoy ourselves.” 

He met her lips gently as she laughed into the kiss before it deepened. 

Waking suddenly with cold chills, she noticed the window by her bed was ajar, she must have done that in her state last night because she had no memory of opening it. Other images flashed from the night before and she smacked her forehead in irritation of her own actions. 

The dream was probably an interpretation of her embarrassment at being walked home like a ditzy college student. Groaning, she pulled herself up and prepared for work. What had possessed her to drink the night before she had an early shift? 

She knew she would be off earlier than usual and contemplated whether she should visit the library to apologize when her shift ended. 

Or, perhaps she should never show her face in his library again. 

The latter was not a possibility for her, she knew; whether it was for the books or Danior… inconclusive. 

Her shift was sluggish, Molly had left her on her own for the last couple hours and she was becoming restless. She considered herself lucky as it was nearing an end when the door tinkled to admit the Driscoll children. She wasn’t accustomed to Pat being accompanied by Ella, but there she was, letting Pat lead her to his usual table. 

Molly came in from behind her, having come down the steps from her own flat to relieve her. She smiled over at the children and then at her, giving her a slight grip on the shoulder, an unusual act of fondness that the women rarely offered her, but then she noticed that Pat was wearing the sweater she had made. 

“It suits him perfectly, excellent work Maureen,” Molly patted her on the back and turned away from her. Before she even had time to take off her apron, Molly turned back to her with a small platter prepared, pushing it at her in earnest, “Go on, your shift is up anyway.” 

Smiling at her appreciatively, she walked over to the pair, laying the platter of two croissants and various fruits before them, Pat immediately went for a croissant and Ella snagged some fruit after eyeing the food suspiciously. 

“And just what are the two of you up to today?” She laid her apron across a chair and pulled out a seat next to Pat. 

Pat started before Ella could breathe a word, “ _We’re_ going to figure out how to break this curse,” he gestured between the three of them enthusiastically. 

If Ella was here, she could only assume that meant she had finished her book. 

“He’s right. The book proves it. No one else in this town could be our mum, and it’s clear dad loves you.” 

Ella’s words came out so matter-of-factly that if she had been trying to convince her of anything else she may have believed her. It was quite a statement regarding a man she had known for hardly a month. She forced a cough to recover from the laughter that had come out unintentionally before she found her words. 

“Your father does not love me, Ella,” she didn’t want to ruin the childish fantasy but she was _not_ mother material in any sense of the word. 

“He does! He just doesn’t know it yet,” Ella pulled out the book in question. It was an extremely old leather-bound book with no title on the cover. 

“I don’t know about that, Ella. Your father is sweet but,” Pat interjected this. 

“See! You love him too!” 

Oh sweet, sweet children. She had to laugh at their youthful interpretation of love. 

“I think he’s an amazing man and father to you both,” she felt that was a diplomatic answer, but Ella merely sighed at her. 

“Just read it, you’ll see,” and then slid the book across the table to her, standing as she did. 

“Thanks for the croissants, mum!” Pat giggled and followed his sister out the door, both his and his sister’s baked goods in hand. 

She turned to see if Molly had heard that, sighing in relief as the woman was nowhere in sight.

Leaving her shift, she thought better of going to see Danior and headed home, she was quite exhausted. It was not her intention to read the book the children had given her, she found it a little uncomfortable to feed their fantasy of her being their mother if she intended on spending more time with their father. 

Her own theory was that the children simply missed having a mother around and Ella had concocted this story to give her brother hope. It seemed harsh, but she could understand making up stories to replace them if she pictured herself growing up without parents. If this were the case, she could read the book and easily quell their hopes with evidence, they seemed sensible enough. 

It was too late to read now though, and her head was still throbbing. 

Something to dwell on in the morning, she supposed, now was the time for sleep. 

* * *

She and Danior were sitting next to one another under a large canopy at what appeared to be an outdoor wedding. Her friend Luna was seated to her right and Danior to her left, the latter of which was watching the event unfold in what was clearly mock interest. 

The happy couple had just kissed, completing their union; it was an unusual wedding, for sure. The guests were thankfully protected from the rain, despite being surrounded by various wildlife, much of which she did not recognize. There must have been some sort of special effects in play because the rain appeared to stop in midair as the couple kissed beneath an umbrella. It was quite beautiful in all honesty, but she had no recollection of attending Gwen and Ned’s wedding, so this must be another deranged dream. 

Luna leaned over and nodded at the umbrella that the couple held between them, “I made sure to clear it of all nargles before we started, what do you think?” 

“Er, it’s wonderful,” wondering what on earth nargles were but she held her tongue. “It’s odd they wanted to get married in the rain though, isn’t it?” 

“They didn’t give me an explanation on that detail while I was planning the magic, but it is quite lovely.” 

The version of Luna in her dream was just as eccentric as the one she knew while she was conscious. She stood with the rest of the crowd and followed Danior into an outdoor dining area, the rain having cleared miraculously at the right time, she admired their surroundings. It was quite beautiful, despite the fact that the fauna surrounding them was obviously not real. There weren’t any plants that moved like this in reality, just another strange development of her dream world that was becoming more bizarre by the night. 

Danior found their seats nearby the happy couple, with many others she recognized nearby. To her utter misfortune, Ron was seated across from them. He thankfully ignored her the entire time Luna was making her congratulatory speech and while Ned made his own speech to his new wife. 

When things finally seemed to wind down, Danior stood and whispered in her ear, “I’ll return in a moment.” 

“Okay,” she smiled up at him, these dreams were certainly becoming more detailed, she noted. 

He gave her a quick peck, on the cheek and _Ron_ had the audacity to scoff loudly, “Honestly, right in front of my salad?” 

“Excuse me, Weasley?” _Weasley_? Who was Danior talking to?

“You heard me, Snape.” 

_Why did so many people have strange names in her dreams?_

Danior’s next words were inaudible as the next thing she knew, Ron’s chair had fallen back with a clatter and he was brandishing a—a wand? He had pulled it from his pocket and was now pointing it at Danior with a ferocious gaze. She felt nervous but it wasn’t as if the wand could do anything, and Danior hadn’t reacted at all. Eyeing Ron with a cocked brow and a cold glare, it was like Danior was daring him to do something. People were staring and she was becoming more nervous by the moment, that is until Gwen approached the fiasco and smacked Ron hard on the head. 

_Good for her_ , she thought, though she was still confused at how a wand was threatening in any form. 

“I apologize, dear. I did not think he would react in that way. I forget the boy is a hothead even at the best of times.” The corners of her lips quirked at the way she could see the softness slowly returning to his eyes as they met hers, it reminded her of a cat calming down after becoming defensive with its arched back and hair on edge. 

Gwen seemed to be taking care of Ron’s attitude, as she had pulled him aside and was loudly ranting about his near ruin of her perfect day. 

“It’s fine, he’s never been one to react in an appropriate way in my experience,” she was going to question the wand, but Danior had leaned over to kiss her full on the mouth as Ron made his way back to his seat, scowling. 

Smiling into the kiss, she closed her eyes but regretted it as soon as she reopened them, finding herself sprawled across her own bed in Reverbourn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts from my (shhh don't tell the others) favorite Swede and one of my many internet mothers! 
> 
> Love you Morbidmuch 💜 and turtlewexler! 🐢


	8. The Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danior asks a favour of Marnie and she gets a taste of the children's curse theory.

Following the spellbinding dream that had fulfilled an unknown fantasy, likely due to Ron’s anger and snogging Danior immediately after, she mustered the courage to make her way to the library the following evening. 

Her apology for her actions outside Luna’s pub had gone over rather well in her opinion, he had laughed it off without questioning her integrity, maintaining that he was just glad he happened upon her on his way home at that precise time. 

She knew it was luck that he had found her, but a nagging voice in the back of her mind was screaming the word fate. Luna’s influence on her, she presumed. 

After their brief conversation, he had received a phone call and excused himself outside, she decided to busy herself by perusing the shelves as she was accustomed to doing by now. 

Finding herself standing between two alcoves after winding her way to the far side of the library, she had been inexplicably drawn to that particular location for the first time, as the sections surrounding it were not her typical reads. The shelves were labeled with small plaques, she now stood between two full cases of _fantasy_ and _witchcraft._ It made the reasoning for the mural that covered the wall between the alcoves all the more obvious now that she was viewing it up close. 

That was when she remembered: _wands_. This mural must have been where she pulled the memory of wands from in her dream. Oddly enough, as she ran her finger across the mural, the small combatants in the fierce battle for… she was unsure what for, but they were familiar to her. It was from a story she knew, but couldn’t place. She became curious at what the cause of the battle had been, not something she would usually wonder, yet here she was. 

Perhaps there was a book that explained the event that was unfolding in the image? Glancing about the mural, she finally found a tiny plaque at the bottom that read: _Battle of Hogwarts, May 2nd, 1998._

_Hogwarts_. That was an unusual word, but it was easy enough to search for a book that contained that title. 

Pulling her bag off her shoulder, she laid it down on the marble floor. She stood on her toes to reach the top shelf after seeing a familiar word, though it wasn’t Hogwarts, it was much more interesting. Before she could reach her target, Danior had reappeared from behind her and grabbed the book she had been going for. She turned in surprise, nearly face-planting directly onto his chest. This was the closest she had been to him, sober of course, _and not including her dreams._

The moment passed quickly as he held the book out to her. The distance between them was filled in the width of the book. 

“Thank you.”

He smirked, but it quickly faded into visible apprehension. 

“Marnie, I know we haven’t known one another for long but I would like to ask a favour of you. You have become one of the few people in this town I’d trust to ask,” a curious way to start a conversation, but she nodded him on, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

“I do not have many people I would consider as friends, and fewer I would trust. I wanted to ensure you knew that before I ask you anything, and know you are under no obligation to accept.” 

His eyes conveyed more sincerity than she’d ever witnessed in her life, it was touching. After a moment she realized he was waiting for her to say something and cursed herself internally, “I’m glad you feel that you can trust me. What can I do for you, Danior?” 

He became more attractive to her each time she was with him, but this display of sincerity had sent her into an utter mess of thoughts. Pulling herself together as his mouth opened to move once more, she chided her indecent mind and forced it into the present moment. 

“Could I possibly trouble you to watch the kids here overnight? I was called last minute and asked to help at an overnight paving job. They don’t call often, but they pay well when they do.” 

That was not what she had expected at all. The children did not seem to be the type that needed to be watched, given Pat’s inordinate amount of time spent in Rolling Scones, but perhaps it was due to the overnight part. He did not want to leave them alone for that period of time, totally understandable. But was it a job she felt she could take on? 

“Are you _sure_ you want it to be me?” 

He smiled a true smile now, not his typical smirk, and she nearly collapsed as he reached out to her, a hand falling to rest on her shoulder. Every inch of her body was now on edge at the touch, even more so as his hand slid down resting a few inches above her elbow. 

“Of course I do.” 

She couldn’t possibly tell him no now, cursing internally at herself for the second time in the past five minutes.

“Of course I will, Danior. Are they upstairs?” He released her arm now, but this did not cause her any less of a reaction because of the unbreaking eye contact. 

“Yes, they are upstairs, I believe watching television. You can help yourself to anything, they should keep themselves occupied for the most part. Just don’t let them bother you too much, they can be a handful if they want to be.” She knew that from experience, recalling the eventful book delivery, only then realizing it was still in her bag.

“Marnie, I truly appreciate this.” 

“It’s not a problem, I swear. I’ll go tell them, you go on ahead if you need to go.” He nodded and turned quickly out the door. 

Watching him until he was out of sight, she then turned to look apprehensively at the staircase that led up to their living space. She paused, mentally preparing for discussions of a curse and being called mum before she made her way up the spiral staircase. 

She pushed the door open and found them lounging across the sofa, watching cartoons on their television as Danior had predicted, that is, that was what they were doing until they saw her. 

“Marnie!” Pat had taken a leap from his seat, throwing his arms around her in a hug. Ella looked over at her with a cocked brow, extremely reminiscent of her father, and then back at the television. 

“Where’s dad?” She spoke without looking at her. 

“He went to work on a job overnight, I’m here to keep an eye on you both.” 

“We don’t need a babysitter, we need our mum.” _That_ hadn’t taken long at all, she thought.

Ella was obviously irritated, though she was unsure what she could have done to warrant the animosity she was receiving from the child at the moment.

Pat poked at his sister, “Come on, you haven’t even told her how the curse is going to be broken!” 

Ella rolled her eyes, “She doesn’t believe us! She would know if she’d read the book and we’d be out of this mess by now.” 

“I never said that! I just haven’t had time to read the book,” she thought her best course of action would be to simply go along with it, for now. “Here, I even have it with me. We can look through it together.” 

She pulled the book out of her bag and sat between the two children, Ella tried to mock uninterest but as she flipped it open, she noticed her eyes were now on her and not the cartoons on the screen. Pat had gone so far as to pull himself closer to her to see the book better.

Time to read, she supposed. 

_Once upon a time, in a land not too far from where you may very well stand, there lived a witch and a Prince. Their story was like no other, building from the precipice of a long-fought war where none would have believed nor accepted that this Prince would come to love this particular witch._

_Severus Snape was no ordinary Prince, though he held the esteemed title well, no one took value to his life early on. This Prince had a knack for deception and an inexplicable talent for potion-making. Those talents, later on, became abused by both sides of the very war that brought our two heroes together._

She stopped at this point, frozen in place. The name. She had recognized the name as one Danior had been called in her dreams and one she had seen not 15 minutes prior while perusing the shelves below. _Snape_. What were the odds? Her mind wandered briefly until Pat poked her to go on. 

_The witch in this journey was one of exceeding talents, but insufferable all the same, particularly to the Prince. Many a year passed when their worlds collided, always negative experiences for the pair. One would have believed Severus Snape and Hermione Granger were the least likely to become friendly following the war, and far fewer would have presumed them to become more than this._

She stopped again, shocked. She recognized _Granger_ as the name Danior had whispered in her ear at the end of one of her dreams. 

Her eyes snapped up from the book again as Ella spoke, “You recognize something, don’t you?” Her shock must have been apparent because Ella’s words were near a whisper, showing genuine concern. Closing the book, she cleared her throat. 

“No, just some,” she paused, she did not want to lie to them, but she did not want them to think she believed, “I just need some water. And perhaps a snack, would you two like anything? Here, hold this, I’ll be back.” 

Not waiting for an answer, she pulled herself up after sliding the book onto Patrick’s lap, leaving the room in a hurry. She was not quick enough to miss the surprised glances the children had exchanged.

So much for convincing them she wasn’t their mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts from thecrazybgirl, love you! ❤️


	9. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marnie and Danior share a moment and she comes to a startling realization.

Once the children had gone to bed that evening, she consumed the untitled book in its entirety. The book was dedicated to snippets of the love story of apparent fictional war heroes, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape.

It had been a compelling tale of romance, complete with scenes that could have been written based directly on her dreams, which wasn’t possible. Her only explanation was that she had read excerpts from the book at some point and forgotten, her mind must only be pulling the memories from her murky past because of her interest in Danior. It was a good enough explanation, and one she intended to stick with for her own sanity. 

The other book she had found that had the name Snape in the title read like a gossip column, she hadn’t even gone past the first few pages before slamming it shut. The author quickly skipped to judgmental conclusions with an astounding lack of evidence, it was truly distasteful writing, even while being about a fictional character from a book. 

Danior returned home early that morning to relieve her of her duties, though she had become more of a library sitter than a babysitter after the children went to bed. He had come in silently to find her sprawled across his sofa with a pile of various books she had pulled on the topic of Hogwarts and magical wars. 

“I did not have you pegged as the type to enjoy fantasies, Marnie.” The sound of another voice had shocked her to her core, she swore aloud and felt her spirit leave her body. He had come in quietly and was looking down at her and her multitude of books with a raised brow.

“Shite, Danior,” she sat up quickly, clutching her chest in shock, a book had fallen to the floor as she moved. It was then she registered what he had said about not thinking her the type to enjoy fantasies; _if only he knew._

“Apologies, I did not intend to frighten you. You should get home and get some sleep. I can’t believe you’re still awake, and reading at that,” and he was right, she was indeed tired. But not enough to miss how attractive she found the filth-covered man before her, the look was complete with his usual smirk. 

She realized she was gawking now and hadn’t said a word, “Right, sorry. You’re right, I’ll just clean this up and—” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it,” he had reached down for her hand and she took it, allowing him to pull her up from the fantasy covered sofa.

And then there was a moment, just the briefest of moments. The touch of their hands had thrown her deep into the vestiges of her memories of the man who had held her, kissed her, and made love to her in her dreams. 

He hadn’t let go of her hand immediately and she almost fooled herself into thinking he could see what she was recalling in the seconds their hands remained connected, but those were not their memories; they were fantasies, just fantasies. But it did not explain the near hungry look he was giving her, and their proximity now. He was close. So close. 

Danior’s lips parted ever so slightly but neither of them had a chance to make a move when Ella walked in groggily, rubbing at her eyes. Marnie quickly pulled her hand from Danior’s and stepped back, grabbing two of the books she’d found and nearly tripping in the process. 

“I-I’ll see you all later. Bye Danior, and good morning Ella.” 

Ella hadn’t even registered what she had walked in on, thankfully, as her only response was a sleepy, “Morning.” 

Marnie slept intermittently throughout the day after her babysitting fiasco, though surprised she could sleep at all after the moment she’d had with Danior. Perhaps she was fooling herself into believing it was a moment, her tired mind had wanted him and she was convincing herself of his interest. 

Her cycle of naps held the same recurring moment within a dream, she believed it represented her inability to win Danior’s affections. She fell into a deep sleep at some point in the afternoon and the rest of the dream finally panned out for the better, surprisingly. 

He ignored her as she approached, he ignored her even as she stood directly next to him, staring at the antique architecture and overgrown courtyard before them. 

She half expected him to pull her into a kiss or make an off-color comment, but ignoring her completely was new. Each time she had napped throughout the day, it was this same moment, over and over again. A word was never said between the two. 

It was often futile to try and get words out in these dreams, but she wanted to try. Her intention when she opened her mouth had been to simply ask Danior if he was okay. 

Instead, a ridiculous question had fallen from her lips without planning it. 

“Are we playing a rousing game of ‘first one to make a noise loses’?” 

He did not move his head in her direction and his expression remained unfazed, but he spoke. 

“If that is the case then you have already lost, Granger.” 

Granger. That name again…

“I suppose that is true. Why are you here?” 

He turned to her now, tone clipped but not as irritated as it could have been, she supposed, “Here as in in the courtyard or here as in employed at the library?” 

She wanted to think, but her mouth had an answer prepared before she had a moment to try. 

“I would find both answers to be of equal interest, but you are under no obligation to answer.” 

“I am well aware I have no obligations to you, Granger.” That snark. Danior did not have it at this level, it was quite entertaining, truth be told, as she knew her other dreams contained the very same man that was enamored by her. 

She stayed silent but did not move from her position beside the brooding man. Eventually, he spoke again. 

“If it will get you to leave me in peace, I am considering the location of the courtyard as it relates to the sun’s patterns. I believe the Colchian wizards that once inhabited this area created their settlement in this location for a reason. I am working on a theory, in summation, I believe the land is cursed in some way to create mass destruction for any muggle population that tries to inhabit the area. Every single muggle settlement that has started here has ended in death and ruin, which has created it the perfect hiding location for a curated magical library. I’ve been unable to find a source of the curse and it may just be hidden in the sun’s patterns, thus, I am standing here, Granger.” 

That was more information than she knew how to process, but her mouth knew all the answers even if her mind didn’t, thankfully. 

“That’s an interesting theory, I’d like to hear your conclusions once you’ve finished your research.” 

“Perhaps.” That sounded promising… 

“What of my other question. Why are you here, at this library?” 

He took his time in responding to this. She wondered how he was surviving while standing in this heat in what appeared to be dark robes. 

“Likely a similar reason you are here, I gather. It is a magnificent location with an excellent collection in need of people to assist in curating it. I wanted to be far away from wizarding Britain and I ended up here. Miraculously you have too, and you should count yourself lucky I have not left yet. I enjoy being here too much to let an insufferable know-it-all faze me.” 

His words hadn’t stung like they had the first time he called her the name in a dream, it was said in an almost playful tone. Not quite fondness, but he clearly did not despise her as he had when he found her in the ‘Curses’ section of the library behind them.

“I do count myself lucky, Severus.” 

The name fell from her lips so easily; she knew that was his name here in her dreams, but never expected it to sound so fulfilling when she heard her own voice say it. 

She did not get a chance to hear if he had responded, as her eyes flitted open, and she decided to abandon all pretense. 

Her dreams were obviously a sign, and the _sign_ was that she was falling for Danior.

That following morning, she went to work dazed at her realization. 

Then Molly had rounded the counter with a plate for a regular patron when she said, “Oh Marnie, dear, you have a note from one of the children that like to visit sometimes, it’s on my desk in the back.”

She made her way to the back and pulled the note from her desk, reading it over three times before processing what the message was saying to her. 

_True love’s kiss will break the curse. -Ella_

_P.S. Thanks for the books you left out for research, they really helped, mum!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one for NaomiJameston because she's the coolest mom (no one tell my real mom). ❤️
> 
> Sorry for the delay in my daily posting on this story, my first day back in my classroom was Friday and I'm not very happy about it, as many of you know. 🙄


	10. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all know something happens here if the curse is broken, right?

The note Ella left had made her smile, not because she believed it would break the imaginary curse, but because she was still working on accepting her feelings for Danior; the idea of kissing him was a thought to smile over.

The question of how she would act on her desires stayed on her mind as she spent nearly every evening the next two weeks between the library and being invited upstairs to dinner, usually by one of the children who claimed their father wanted her to stay. He never gave her any inclination that he may have feelings for her, but he was quite a difficult man to read.

Pat and Ella seemed to know their relationship was still friendly in nature as she often spotted Ella dragging Pat out of a room or the library to give them time alone, it was quite cute in all honesty. 

In all the time she had spent with him in the last month, they always had pleasant conversations that focused on their favorite literature, favorite foods, among other favorites. It was like getting to know an old friend she’d once lost with how much they had in common. 

Late one night, after she’d had dinner with him and the children, Pat had asked if she would read a chapter from a book for them as he had often done this week. It was endearing, though she knew he only asked because he was in absolute belief that she was their mum and she was obligated to read to them. 

After reading for a near half hour, Pat had dozed off and Ella bade them goodnight. 

“I will put him to bed and be back,” she nodded at Danior as he stood, throwing his son over his shoulder, typically he followed this up with an offer to walk her out when he returned, but he hadn’t this time.

She leaned back onto the sofa, contemplating any possible way she could ask the man on a date without coming off as insane or losing her library privileges if he wasn’t interested. _I believe we are well-matched, you are intelligent and we have much in common, it does help I find you rather attractive, oh and your kids think I’m their mother._

Yes, _that_ would go over well. 

He returned after only a few minutes, shaking his head. 

“He is the heaviest sleeper, I nearly dropped him and he didn’t bat an eye.” 

Laughing, she stretched her arms out some, now unsure where to take the conversation. 

Perhaps she should just take her leave? He had likely expected her to and now she felt awkward in his space. 

“Why do you spend so much of your time here, Marnie?” It hadn’t sounded accusatory but she felt flustered at the question he had suddenly asked her when he laughed and corrected his words. 

“Not here, here. I invited you here, I mean the library. You come nearly every day now, I worry I am stealing you away from your friends or family.” 

She relaxed, he hadn’t meant it insultingly but he was correct, she had only ever casually mentioned knowing Gwen and Ned from school but never discussed any of her friends. 

“You aren’t, I visit the library because I love it here. Luna and Harry wouldn’t understand. Although, I did not spend much time with them before I found the library either. Most of my time I spent working and picking up extra shifts to save for opening this library or leaving this town.”

Her words had caused a rift and she had been unable to ascertain why, as he initially seemed like he was going to sit next to her, but now walked to the far end of the room. His face did not show much emotion, in fact he appeared to be void of emotion. 

“Danior?” 

He spoke in a tone she had only ever heard in a dream and caused her to visibly recoil, “Harry and Luna Potter are your friends?” 

“Er, yes. I grew up with them, we grew apart when Harry was,” she paused remembering that Danior had apparently fought in the war as well. She cursed herself for bringing him up but it was done now. 

“–when Harry was gone, I didn’t catch up with them until a few years after he was back.” 

Danior seemed to be doing mental connections now, as he was obviously lost in thought. “That night, I found you down near their bar. You were visiting them?” 

“I was,” no point in lying now, not that she could bring herself to anyway. 

His voice even, he responded with a short but accusatory, “So you know.”

She had already decided on honesty, sighing to herself. 

“I don’t truly know anything, Danior. All I know for sure is that you and Harry fought in the war together. Anything else I was told I have been operating under the impression that it is all pure fiction.” 

He was fighting with himself now, she couldn’t decide if it was because of her words or something he wanted to say, but his face contorted and he turned from her, waiting entirely too long to respond. She stood, though unsure if approaching him was the best move at the moment, she found she did not care. 

“Danior, I know you had nothing to do with her disappearance.” 

He whipped around, his face inches from hers, and his voice low but menacing, “How do you know?” 

She reached up to cup his face, and he flinched before putting his hand cautiously over hers, as if he was afraid of her touch. 

“I just know.” 

He was clearly relaxing now and she felt more confident than she had in months. She needed to act before she lost her grip and would have to wait another month for a moment like this. 

“I apologize,” he let his hand fall from covering hers still holding his face, “Here, I can go make us some tea and we can discuss–.” 

“I don’t want tea, I want you,” and she kissed him. 

And then everything went white. 

* * *

She wasHermione Granger-Snape, curator of one of the oldest magical libraries in the wizarding world. Her husband was Severus Snape, once professor and spy, now her coworker and lover. They both fought in the last great wizarding war together. She loved him and he loved her in return. 

All the dreams she’d had in her brief life as another person flashed before her like an old tape being wound back into her mind. 

Her failed relationship with Ron led her to the steps of the very library she had found Severus again. His initial reaction to finding her in the library he had taken haven in was not anywhere near positive, but he had not fled the area upon seeing her. Despite his reaction to her, her opinion of him never changed following the war, she always saw him as a hero. After spending hours upon hours in the old building for months, she was offered a job alongside him, but she did her best to steer clear of him in fear of scaring him off. 

Their conversation outside the library one evening had swayed his opinion of her somewhat, he began to complete work with her with short comments here and there, eventually indirectly inviting her along on trips to collect artifacts for the collections the library had. They completed innumerable exhibits together, growing fonder of one another as time went on.

And though he had been cold to her at first, their friendship eventually grew into something she felt _could_ become more the longer she was around him. After one evening, not too different from the one she’d just had with Danior, they had fallen into a heated argument about his reputation wherein he hadn’t apologized, but rather, offered her tea. 

She had turned down his offer for tea in just the same way she had as Marnie, by kissing him senseless after weeks of tiptoeing the line of showing she was increasingly fond of him and even going insofar as to flirt with the clueless man. He had offered her tea and she had kissed him and everything had changed for the better. He pushed her away only ever so slightly, but she was an unrelenting witch and he gave in to her with surprising ease. 

They moved into a small cottage together, near enough their library but far enough to not be bothered by others. She had dreamt of their tender moments together, from their terrible roleplay attempt in the bedroom to the peaceful winter night they had spent hours in the bath. 

One of her favorite memories was early in their relationship when Ron had discovered who she had been seeing and his words were not so kind, in return, neither were her actions. She had transfigured him into a newt, he had been ginger to match his outward appearance. When Severus had discovered what she had done, he had sent her an owl with ginger newt biscuits while he was out on an excursion in search of an artifact for the library. 

Ginny’s wedding had also been a fond memory, as it was the first time many of her friends had seen them in public together. Even his surprising proposal to her had been her second dream after meeting him for the first time in the world without magic.

They had been drawn together inexplicably in the new world without much prompting. She wondered if he’d had dreams of her, but she would ask that after her mind stopped reeling and she could properly see, as she was currently doubled over, hand clutching a nearby table trying to avoid becoming sick.

Gaining her bearings, she stood up straight, looking around the room and finding Severus in a similar position, leaning against a nearby wall. 

“Severus?” The name felt like a home she had lost long ago as it slipped from her lips. 

He coughed and turned to face her, eyes wide. “Hermione?” 

She took the few steps needed to fill the gap between them and threw her arms around him, he held her tightly in kind. They remained like this for longer than she knew, she was afraid to let him go lest he be ripped away from her memory again. 

Finally, he pulled away, only slightly, looking down on her.

“I am assuming the cupboard was indeed cursed, then,” she let out a noise that was a half laugh, half sob. 

“It was, I’m sorry I opened it, Severus.” 

He gently pushed a strand of hair from her face and used his thumb to wipe her tears, “We both were curious, for all our measures to check it for curses, we couldn’t have known.” 

And he was right, they had used every spell in both their repertoires to check the cupboard for anything malevolent in nature. It was curious, they had both touched the cupboard and the key that they had discovered with it many times. Nothing had happened to them until they tried _opening_ the cupboard with the key. 

“It was the key, not the cupboard.” Though she said this as a guess, she felt the words were true. 

“I believe that is an accurate deduction,” they separated more now, still holding hands in fear of letting the other go, but both peering down at the brass key that had fallen to the ground.

It was seemingly unmagical in appearance, as any other key to a cupboard would look. The sounds of voices carried from the other side of the door of the room they were in, their fear slowly ebbing away as they became more aware of what had happened and how they came to be here.

“You know, Severus, it’s not every day you get to fall in love with the same person all over again.” She reached up and cupped his face.

He pulled her close again, “Yes, that is true but don’t you find it a bit odd that the curse was broken with a simple kiss?” 

She almost reminded him of the true love’s kiss which brought something else hazy to the forefront of her mind, but before she could comment, there was a loud clatter directly outside the door. 

“Oh thank Merlin!” A familiar coworker of theirs slammed his way into the room with stacks of parchment in hand, “I had hoped the two of you would be able to find your own way out of that wretched thing. I’ve been researching for days on how to get you out but the Colchians were very elusive on how to break their curses, as you both know.” 

He sat the parchment down in front of them and they each chose a piece at random, reading through quickly. 

“The use of the Key of Ak’rdzalos was one of the many methods of punishment intended to curse wizards or witches who broke the rules of the Kingdom of Colchis, specifically, the rules in which wizards or witches showed mercy to non-magical humans. The Colchi were bent on revenge against anyone non-magical for invading and slaughtering their youth in the past, making it very difficult for their population to grow, and this likely contributed to their inevitable extinction,” Severus began. 

Hermione cleared her throat and Severus stopped, “The key was to be inserted into a door of any kind which would then curse the user and anyone within immediate proximity to live a life without magic with no memory of their past life. These magical banishments would range from a few days to remaining locked in for life. If the user died within the curse, they would cease to exist in the real world as well,” she ended the sentence, looking up at Severus in shock. 

“There are no known ways to break the curse,” Archie squeaked out, “I couldn’t find a shred of evidence suggesting methods to get those who are cursed out, so I am unsure of the reliability of the varying punishment times. Perhaps that secret died with their people.”

Severus and Hermione exchanged glances, thinking the same thing she assumed. All they had done to break the curse was kiss, and technically she’d had her memories, albeit she hadn’t believed in them. Though it was likely not everyone in the past was cursed into a muggle world with the love of their life, maybe that additional factor had an effect on the curse. 

“I’m just so thrilled the two of you are back, our patrons were becoming worried.” 

“How long were we gone, Archie?” She was curious at the difference in time because they can’t have been gone as long as it felt within the curse, or her parents would be having apoplectic fits at them not showing up to their monthly visit. 

“Three days time, the first day I assumed you two went home early, but that morning I came in here and noticed the key in the cupboard and I put it all together. I began my research that day and found most of what I could between then and now. I had just recently owled several professional curse breakers and heard back from a few only an hour ago when I heard the sound of you two in here.” 

Three days, they were only gone for _three_ days.

Severus spoke, “Interesting, you will need to reference us the books you used to find this information,” he held up the parchment, “and ensure no one goes near this,” he gestured at the cupboard and key “ever again.” 

Archie nodded vigorously, “Of course, of course. We will catalogue everything safely later. First let me welcome you both back, I’ll go get you both some tea!” The small man left the room without another word and her hazy thoughts suddenly became clear as the door snapped behind him. 

There was one thing missing. 

“Severus…Ella and Patrick?” 

He was clearly still processing the alternative life he’d had for months within the span of three days, when he looked at her with worry in his eyes. 

“Yes, I had wondered…” 

She paused, afraid to broach the subject but she desperately wanted to now, “You were an excellent father, Severus.”

He gave her a small smile, “I tried to never consider it as an option for myself, as my own father was,” he stopped here, but she knew the rest. 

She herself had never considered the prospect of having kids with Severus, they were just as happy on their own, but this alternative world they had been tossed in had made her question some things. 

“Perhaps that is something we can discuss then, they were terribly beautiful children, I’d hate to deny them even the discussion of ever existing.” 

His smile widened now, and she had a feeling the man before her wanted to be a father more than he was letting on. 

“Come, let us discuss the matter further at home,” he held his hand out to her and she took it, knowing that hungry look in his eyes all too well. 

She had dreamt of that look, but after all this time it was always hers to have.

“What about Archie, he’s getting us tea, Severus.” 

“I don’t want tea, I want you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this out a week ago but life happened. 😩 I loved writing this weird little story, sorry if it makes no sense because it didn’t really make sense to me at first either, but I connected a bunch of wild prompts SO _shrug_.   
> The last prompts here were my own but turtle_wexler definitely had a hand in the tea line, and multilingualism helped me out with some Kartvelian languages. ❤️


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